


Out of the Frying Pan

by FirstWriter



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstWriter/pseuds/FirstWriter
Summary: Morgase is rescued and restored to her throne. But can she trust the powers that now control her country?  Some simple communication could probably sort everything out. That's never a problem in Wheel of Time, is it?
Kudos: 15





	1. Escape?

Observing the Whitecloak prisoners being marched across the courtyard of the Fortress of the Light through the window in her rooms, Morgase’s attention was suddenly drawn back to the sound of the door opening. Two servants entered, but they were neither servants to the Children of the Light, nor to the Seanchan. After a moment, Morgase realized they could not be Amadician servants – their high-collared coats were the black of men in service to a common-born employer, but the cut was Andoran.

"Who are you?" snapped Breane.

"The queen does not wish to be disturbed..." Lini began, only to be cut off.

“It _is_ her!” one of the intruders exclaimed in a Caemlyn accent. He was a young man, with a round face and sandy hair, and he quickly and awkwardly bowed. “My queen! How did you come to be here?”

The other man closed the door, having glanced furtively down the corridor. “I think someone’s coming.” He was darker and sharper featured than the Andoran and his accent sounded local. He wore a silver pin in the shape of a sword on the collar of his coat. “We must be quick,” he continued, coming to stand beside his companion and gazing at Morgase thoughtfully.

“And who are you goodmen?” Morgase demand, drawing herself up. “How did you get past the guards?”

“We have our ways,” the darker man said. “I am Jaim Norreck, and this is Tad Calwin.” He cocked his head in the direction of the other fellow, who was still gazing at Morgase in awe. “What is stranger is to see the queen of Andor, who was dead the last I heard, in the Fortress of the Light. I have heard that queens of Andor train in the White Tower, and friends of the witches are seldom welcome here. Did you bring these … Seanchan?” 

Morgase decided to answer Norreck, however insolent his manner. “I was a guest of the late Lord Captain Commander, until he was murdered. His replacement, Valda, has been somewhat less hospitable, and the High Lady Suroth appears to be no improvement. At the very least, they seem a more serious threat.”

“Because they use the One Power?” asked Norreck. “I think they have witches of their own, who lead women around on leashes. They have monsters that fly, which we saw in the night. And they talk as if they intend to conquer all the nations. It seems to me that the Queen of Andor would be a great help to them in this.”

“You are correct on most particulars, Master Norreck,” Morgase replied. “Save that the women who can channel are wearing the leashes, and the others control them somehow. And Suroth spoke of my ruling Andor in the name of their Empress, whom they claim is the descendant and rightful heir to Artur Hawkwing.”

“You wouldn’t!” gasped Calwin, a horrified look on his face. “My queen, you can’t give Andor to them!”

“It is not a question of give,” Norreck wryly advised his companion, without taking his eyes off Morgase. “I think they intend to take it, and parade her about to claim it was given.”

“Well, we can take you away from them,” Calwin declared. “Let them _try_ taking Andor with its rightful queen to lead us!”

Exchanging a glance with Lini and Breane, Morgase asked cautiously, “You are certain you can get me and my people away from the Fortress?”

“We might…” Norreck started to say, but Calwin cut him off. “We can have you all back in Caemlyn, back in the Palace tonight!” 

“How?” scoffed Breane. “Even if you stole one of their flying creatures it could not possibly reach Caemlyn that fast.” 

Norreck was glaring at Calwin, who shrugged awkwardly. “We would have had to tell her. It’s not like we could get them out without them learning how.”

Morgase found herself nearly as uneasy as she had felt when the Seanchan came to fetch her. “You haven’t said how you mean to get us out.”

The men exchanged a glance and Calwin opened his mouth, only to whip around and stare at the door a moment before Tallanvor pushed through, followed by Basel Gill and Lamgwin. Tallanvor pulled up short and his hand dropped to the sword hanging once more at his side. 

“Mor… my queen, I did not realize you had callers,” he said, with a respectful bow.

“Tallanvor, these goodmen claim they can help us escape the Fortress, and that further, they can return us to Caemlyn very shortly.” She turned and arched an eyebrow at the newcomers. Her unease had, if not lifted, lightened somewhat. Not because Tallanvor was present. It was simply that she was in more control of the situation with all her people present. Because she no longer had to worry about their safety. Only for that reason.

Norreck met Tallanvor’s incredulous gaze with a smug expression. “I am Dedicated Jaim Norreck,” his fingers brushed the sword pin on his collar as he said ‘dedicated’, “and this is Soldier Tad Calwin. We are Asha’man of the Black Tower, and were passing through Amador on a recruiting mission when we observed the Seanchan attack. We came to the Fortress to investigate the Seanchan when we discovered your queen, here. Calwin is still a patriot, though our first loyalties are to the Lord Dragon and the Black Tower of course.”

“You can channel.” The words sounded loud in the silence of the room, and might have been a bell sounding suddenly from the start Morgase’s companions all gave them. Everyone, Tallanvor to Lini, took an involuntary step back, though they each moved closer to Morgase herself. She had not moved. In fact, she realized she herself had spoken.

Norreck’s nod was half assent, half acknowledgment, as if a teacher to pupil who had answered his question. “The Lord Dragon has proclaimed an amnesty. It is no longer unlawful wherever the Lord Dragon’s word holds sway. As it does in Andor,” he finished with a smile that was equal parts satisfied and challenging. Calwin shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

Morgase met his eyes with a level look. “Dare I hope your promised method is more subtle than using the One Power to fight our way out of the Fortress?”

Calwin brightened at that. “Yes, my queen. We call this ‘Skimming’.” He turned to face an empty stretch of the room and suddenly a space seemed to turn and open where he looked. Inside, what appeared to be a small boat sat amid an empty blackness. “We just step in and it will take us right to Andor. You could be sleeping in your own bed tonight!” 

There was little discussion after that. What the men had seen in the Fortress, taken beside Morgase’s own interview with Suroth, meant none of them were interested in remaining in a Seanchan-held fortress a moment longer than they had to.

+*+*+

Stepping out of the hole in the air, Morgase shuddered in relief. The voyage through the pure darkness had been among the most unnerving things she had ever experienced. Even more astonishing was where she was now. The Great Hall of the Royal Palace in Caemlyn was the same as she had last seen it. She was truly home.

The hole had closed as Calwin came through, and he and Norreck were engaged in a heated argument, of which Morgase could not hear a word. Norreck seemed annoyed at Calwin for some reason. She supposed the other Asha’man had intended to take her somewhere more in his control, perhaps to this so-called Black Tower he had mentioned, back in Amador. 

A pounding of footsteps at the entrance announced the arrival of soldiers, only a handful in the red and white of the Queen’s Guard. Morgase was not sure which sight was worse, the men in Saldaean uniforms, or browns and grays of the men and women whose faces were concealed behind black veils.

Both sets of soldiers spread out as they poured into the hall, some of the Aiel nocking arrows to short bows with strange curves, while others eased in front of them with small shields and short spears held ready. The Saldaeans held back, not seeming to coordinate with the Aiel, but still standing ready, as if to react to either their allies or the intruders. Morgase speculated for a moment whether it was the normal distrust of civilized folk for Aiel or if there were tensions between the intruders she could use. If she could play the Borderlanders against the Aiel, ridding Caemlyn of both might be easier. Or a disaster for the city. Best to wait.

The soldiers still filling the doorway suddenly moved aside, as a boy in a black coat, devoid of pins as was Calwin’s, entered. “Norreck?” he said, recognizing the … Asha’man. 

Norreck frowned. “Morr, isn’t it? What are you doing in the Palace?”

“The Lord Dragon assigned me here to carry word to him from Lord Davram,” said the boy, another Andoran, Morgase noted. “What are you doing here? Did the M’hael send you?”

Calwin laughed. “No, we were recruiting in Amadicia and we found the queen!” He gestured at Morgase in an awkward attempt at a flourish. Some of the Saldaeans exchanged glances and murmurs, and a couple of the Queen’s Guards came forward. 

“Volden,” barked Tallanvor, suddenly, “do you stand unbidden in your queen’s presence?” One of the guards jerked at his words, before frowning.

“I don’t kneel to imposters who come to the Palace in the company of deserters,” he retorted. “My queen was killed by a usurper.”

“What queen _do_ you serve, Guardsman Volden?” demanded Morgase in her command voice. “Or have you decided to serve a man instead?”

Volden jerked again, seeming to recognize her in spite of himself. “I serve at the orders of Lady Dyelin, the regent for the Daughter-Heir, until such time as she is returned to Andor from the White Tower. Where Queen Morgase sent her.”

Morgase started to respond when a flash of light caught her attention. She turned to see a hole in the air close and she noted the black-coated boy who had met them was nowhere in sight. Both Norreck and Calwin seemed nervous. Was he reporting to their superior, their M’hael? She wondered whether it would not have been wiser to wait for a chance with the Seanchan.

Another commotion at the door brought more new arrivals. One, by his dress was clearly a prominent noble, and the style, in addition to his tilted eyes, marked him as a Saldaean. A short man, barely taller than Morgase herself, with a striking nose and gray-streaked moustaches, he fit the description she had heard of Davram Bashere. Beside Bashere was the largest man she had ever seen, clearly Aiel by his garb and gray-streaked red hair. 

“What’s this, then?” asked Bashere as casually as if he’d strolled into the common room of an inn. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, glancing with what appeared no more than idle curiosity at each of the new arrivals in turn, but Morgase would have wagered he was taking in every detail.

“I am Queen Morgase of Andor,” she informed him in a mild tone of calm, but absolute, certainty. Shouting would not impress him, and agitation would undermine her claims. “I was held captive abroad and freed by the good offices of these Asha’man,” she added indicating Norreck and Calwin, who looked increasingly uncomfortable. “We have not had the honor of an introduction…”

Bashere gave a slight bow with aplomb, not at all discomfited by her implicit rebuke. “I am Davram Bashere, and this fellow is Bael, Chief of the Goshen Clan of the Aiel. We’ve been keeping the city safe for its rightful queen, on behalf of the Dragon Reborn.”

“How considerate of him,” Morgase replied dryly. “But by what right does he undertake such a charge? Does he also presume to determine the rightful queen?”

“The _Car’a’carn_ decides by right of conquest,” rumbled the Aielman. “You were not in this city. This hold was led by the Shadowsouled called Rahvin, and we danced with Trollocs and Myrddraal when we came to kill him. We took it from the Shadow, not from Andorans. And Rand al’Thor held it lightly. When he took the cities of the Tairens and the treekillers, he killed the lords who disobeyed him with your wetlander ropes about the neck and he changed the laws by which they were ruled. He also allowed the _al’gai d’siswai_ claim the fifth from the Stone of Tear and the Sun Palace. He did none of those things here.” Bael left unsaid that all this could change, too.

Turning away from the Dragonsworn, she addressed Volden. “How is it that if Dyelin is regent, these … guests are here and she is not?”

“The Lady Dyelin is in Aringill, my...” The guardsman visibly stopped himself from giving her a title.

“And the Lord Dragon has been advised of your return, Your Majesty” interjected Norreck, clearly trying to remind everyone who was in charge. Morgase ignored him. Neither of the two older men seemed to pay him any mind, suggesting that whoever was in control of Andor it was not Norreck or his superiors. Or, at the least Bashere and the Aielman stood higher in that power’s confidence than did Norreck. Morgase wondered if al’Thor was truly in charge, or if Bashere or the Aiel were. Niall had claimed he was a puppet of the White Tower, but his views had hardly been objective. For herself, Morgase found it difficult to believe Aes Sedai would tolerate these Asha’man clearly coming and going as they wished.

Just then Reene Harfor bustled into the hall trailed by a pair of maids and a serving man, all rather older than Morgase might have expected. In fact, she was sure the man and one of the women had resided in the pensioners’ quarters when last she was in the Palace. A slight rise of her eyebrows was all the surprise Reene showed at Morgase being alive and returned, and seeing Morgase take note of her, stayed her advance, deferring to Morgase’s summons with a wary look at the Borderlanders and Aiel. So. Mistress Harfor still had the Palace in hand, and while familiar with the intruders, recognized their practical authority. They were more than mere guests, but had not taken over the operation of the staff, and with Reene clearly on Morgase’s side, it suggested they could be extricated with little disruption when the opportunity arose.

Morgase turned to address the crowd of soldiers. “As Lady Dyelin is not present, you have our leave to go,” she dismissed them. Turning to Norreck and Calwin, she said “You have my thanks and I will speak to you presently. In the meantime, rooms will be available to you.” She did not want male channelers in the Palace a moment more than she must, but if they were infesting Andor, it might be prudent to try to win one or both of them to her cause. 

“Mistress Harfor will see to accommodations appropriate to your good and faithful service.” A warm smile, appropriate to a commoner who had provided a singular service to the crown, and a slight nod and the two men found themselves bowing and turning to go as Reene murmured to the serving man - Eldin, Morgase was sure his name was - who led them away. The phrasing of her dismissal told Mistress Harfor the degree of hospitality Morgase wished the Asha’man shown. For now, they would be accorded the welcome similar to a strange Aes Sedai whom her advisor had neither favored nor disliked. If they knew well enough to judge such things they would be flattered, and if not, the luxury afforded thus would undoubtedly dazzle them for a bit. But before she could spend time to entice a pair of male channelers to her cause, she must learn how matters stood in Andor.

Tallanvor marched the Guardsmen from the Hall, but stopped at the door, keeping station himself, while Master Gill and Lamgwin clustered near him and Lini and Breane watched Morgase and the Dragonsworn from near the men. The Aiel drifted out of the room, and the Saldaeans saluted at Bashere’s dismissive wave, bowed to Morgase and strode out with only a word or two from a senior bannerman to those who sought to linger or peer back in curiosity. Lord Bashere and Bael moved more slowly, talking quietly between themselves with some looks Morgase’s way, but they were leaving. It would have to do for now.


	2. Restoration?

Before she could speak to Reene Harfor, another hole in the air opened, to the Sun Palace in Cairhien from what Morgase could see of the rigid lines and oppressive ostentation of the furnishings. A tall man stepped through, accompanied by two armed Aiel women, and the boy Morr, and it closed behind him. 

Nearly two years had passed since Tallanvor had marched her children into her presence with a tall boy in country garb, with a sword at his hip, whom Elayne had claimed climbed the garden wall and fallen inside. Nervous, wary and deferential, that boy was gone. The man striding across the tiled floor toward the throne had an air of command, and of danger. When last she had seen him, it had taken Gareth Bryne’s experience to note his familiarity with the sword he wore. A blind woman could not miss what he was now. He moved like a warder, but more, a warder who held vast power in his own right. 

Davram Bashere and the Aiel chief Bael moved up to greet al’Thor, who exchanged quiet words with them while staring at Morgase. The young Asha’man who had brought al’Thor hung back, looking at loose ends, while the Aiel women kept a watch about the Hall, with an occasional look at Morgase, a few glances at Bashere and Morr and very clearly keeping an eye on the companions of Morgase’s journey who were gradually moving closer to the muttering trio of men. Tallanvor and Lini both were approaching warily, ready, she thought to defend her if necessary, and Breane dragged in the rear, plainly reluctant, but also unwilling to let Lamgwin move forward without her. The curiosity was Lamgwin and Master Gill, who though cautious in their approach, showed less wariness than Tallanvor. Neither was a fool or overbold, yet they seemed less afraid of al’Thor than the Aiel with him.

Al’Thor, for his part noticed them and looked startled, before pulling away from his followers. “Master Gill! Lamgwin!” he said as he moved to clasp their hands, almost a country man greeting a pair of neighbors, to Morgase’s astonishment. 

Lamgwin gave a broad smile and returned the handshake. “Good to see you, Rand. Come up some, have you?” Breane’s eyes nearly fell out of her face seeing her man hail the Dragon Reborn. Al’Thor laughed, almost ruefully, and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Well, it’s been a while, lad,” Master Gill said to al’Thor. “That is, uh, my lord Dragon. It was a surprise, everything we heard about you. And good to hear you put paid to Lord Gaebril. I warned Thom and young Mat about him, I suppose they told you what he was doing?”

“Yes, some. How is it you’re in the Palace? I looked for you when last I came to Caemlyn, but Sara said you were off buying supplies and not like to return soon.” Morgase could not believe her ears. Gill and Lamgwin were _friends_ with Rand al’Thor? She supposed she could see why they would not have mentioned it, but she could barely believe it of the rotund innkeeper and his simple shoulder-thumper. They were loyal and the truest followers a Queen could wish, but to be acquainted with the Dragon Reborn?

“Well, the long and short of it was, Tallanvor there came to us for help when the Queen had to leave the Palace after all that Lord Gaebril did to her. She’s been looking for help to take back the country and we’ve been following her ever since. All the way to Amador, until the Seanchan came and then two fellows in black coats offered to bring us home.” Gill’s reply made al’Thor turn to regard Morgase again. 

“So you’ve been with her since she left Caemlyn? And you’re sure this is Morgase?” His gaze was hard and considering and his voice harder as he stared at her, seeming to begrudge her identity. Morgase forced herself not to swallow. If he didn’t like the fact that she had returned, he could easily make it as if she had not. Where before she had doubts about Master Gill or Lamgwin’s capacity to handle a serious armed threat to her person, now it seemed, at her greatest danger since escaping Gaebril’s clutches, her life and those of her companions might lie entirely with them and their friendship with the man who threatened her and her nation.

At Gill’s and Lamgwin’s assent, he nodded and glanced around the room again. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with the queen. It was good to see you both.” The men half-nodded, half-bowed at his dismissal, and he turned and nodded to Breane, ”Lady Breane, I had not expected to see you in Caemlyn. Your kinsman, Dobraine is handling matters for me in Cairhien, if you decide to return.” 

Morgase turned to stare at Lamgwin’s woman. _Lady Breane?_ Kin to Dobraine…Taborwin? The Cairhienin flushed for some reason, before replying smoothly, “My Lord Dragon, you are kind to remember me. But Dobraine is my late husband’s kin, not mine. I am with Lamgwin, the finest man I have ever known.”

Al’Thor shrugged. “Your judgment is better than I thought from Barthanes’ party.” It sounded almost like he was making a joke though no hint showed on his face, yet Breane gave a pleased and amused smile. Another dismissive nod, a considering glance at Lini and one for Tallanvor, though whether or not al’Thor remembered the Guardsman who had arrested him, Morgase could not say, and he turned from the small group and moved in front of Morgase herself. 

“So, you’re alive,” al’Thor stated, then stopped, seeming at a loss for words. “How did you escape?”

“I left the Palace when I realized how deeply Gaebril had sunk his grip on Andor,” Morgase found herself answering. “Master Gill and his people were kind enough to accompany me as I sought aid.” She bit down on her reply, before she started babbling. She would _not_ be afraid. Al’Thor might have her and her country in his grip, but she was done running. If she died fighting for her realm here and now, so be it.

And then al’Thor changed everything. 

“Rahvin.” The name of the Forsaken startled Morgase, but he continued before she could ask more. “Not Gaebril, but Rahvin. He controlled you with the One Power. You did well to be able to think for yourself enough to escape when you had the chance.” 

She could barely breathe. It had not been her. She had not ruined her country in her infatuation with a man.

“You are certain of this,” she demanded. Bael had mentioned Rahvin, Morgase realized, but she had not connected him with Gaebril. _It was not me._

“We fought Trollocs and Myrrdraal when I took Caemlyn,” al’Thor retorted, echoing the Aielman’s earlier words. “He channeled _saidin_ against me before I destroyed him. Elenia and her husband, Naean, Arymilla, Lir, Nasin, others, were dancing attendance on him. They claimed not to know who he was, but they hardly struck me as much more trustworthy than Rahvin himself.” 

That cold gaze intensified. “Or should I have left Andor to them, once I had the city and Palace in hand?”

“Do you intend to leave Andor to me?” Morgase demanded, rather than answer his question. It was well-phrased. Either she had to concede some validity to his actions violating Andor’s sovereignty, or else look a fool by defending her most recalcitrant and rebellious subjects. Assert their suitability to speak for the nation, and al’Thor might very well procure one or more whom he had bought off or intimidated, to take a high position at court she could not then refuse. She wondered what sort of experience had taught him so much, so quickly. Or had he been dissembling when they first met?

“Have I your assurance that you will not side with my enemies, that you will join Andor’s strength to the other nations allied against the Shadow and the Seanchan?” al’Thor demanded.

“Who are these enemies?” Morgase asked in return. The White Tower might very well be an answer… Elaida was a Red, and while her former advisor had not seemed nearly as hostile to the opposite sex as some in her Ajah, and she had to know the Prophecies of the Dragon as well as anyone, Morgase doubted she could look kindly on any male channeler running loose, much less one who gathered such men to serve him and trained them in abilities the Tower had lost in the Breaking…

“I think you can guess,” al’Thor replied. “I have no intention of fighting the White Tower if I do not have to, but Elaida has already tried to take me by force. Nearly two dozen sisters are prisoners, and some died or were stilled in the attempt. I won’t put up with any further attempts, but I also don’t ask you to stand against Aes Sedai. Beyond the Tower, Sammael rules Illian under the name Brend, much as Rahvin once held Andor. Pedron Niall tried to have me assassinated, but from what I saw of the city when I first came, the Whitecloaks are no friends of yours.”

“Niall is dead,” said Morgase absently while trying to digest what else she had just heard. A Forsaken, _another Forsaken_ , ruling a nation! The White Tower losing two dozen Aes Sedai in open conflict! Al’Thor keeping Aes Sedai captives? “I was in the Fortress of the Light when he was assassinated by his own spymaster. Their new Lord Captain Commander is Eamon Valda, who had been in Andor when we first met. He apparently followed my children and the sisters bringing Logain to Tar Valon. He was away from Amador when the Seanchan took it, unfortunately.” She wondered where her children were and how safe they were. Galad, she knew, had joined the Whitecloaks, and hopefully had been away from the Fortress when it fell. She had not thought to be thankful for the efforts his superiors had made to keep him away from her.

“They’ve taken Amador?” al’Thor asked, his face more grim than cold, now. Morgase nodded.

“Their leader, a woman called Suroth, spoke of conquering Andor for their empress, using me to rule it in her name. They apparently use women who can channel and have monsters that fight for them. They had a considerable number of soldiers from Tarabon serving them in Amador.”

Al’Thor let out a deep breath. “Then they’ve likely taken Tarabon as well. Perhaps even Arad Domon, given that the only news from there is near as muddled as Tarabon has been.” Staring at nothing, he seemed to be listening to sounds only he could hear. “They’ll have to wait their turn. I can’t call back the army until Sammael is finished.”

He turned his attention back to Morgase. “There are things in motion, important things that I can’t disrupt just yet. It’s critical to my plans to take Illian from Sammael, and everything is set here, so I can’t leave Andor now. A few more days, no more than a week or two, and then I can have the Aiel and Saldaeans gone and everything back in your hands.” 

It was almost baffling, to hear what might possibly be construed as an apology for taking so long to perform complex military movements in a fraction of the time they would take anyone else. But Morgase supposed if Asha’man could carry her and her companions the hundreds of leagues between Amador and Caemlyn in a singe night, al’Thor could no doubt move his armies just as swiftly. The important thing was her news of the Seanchan seemed to have convinced him to give up Andor, Light be thanked.

There would be much more she had to discuss with him, but so far, the Dragon Reborn seemed a far better patron to support her restoration of Andor than any she had thought to find. Far more dangerous, to be sure, and she was more certain than ever that Elaida’s Foretelling had gravely understated the threat he posed to her realm, but for the first time since Rand al’Thor fell into her garden, she felt real hope.

+-+-+

Running her fingers over the back of the chair in her sitting room, Morgase suppressed a sigh. After more than a month back in the Palace, she sometimes still found it hard to believe. There had been times she had despaired of ever returning. The other woman in the room unwittingly gave echo to her thoughts.

“I never thought to see you again, my Queen.” Dyelin, High Seat of House Taravin, and lawful successor to the Lion Throne in the event of the demise of Morgase and her daughter, was still staring slightly, and had been since she had arrived in the Palace to find Morgase installed as queen, again. At least she had finally returned. Rumors had her near the city with a small force of armsmen for two weeks now, but she had not entered until this very day. 

From the Dome of Truth in Amador to the Royal Palace in Caemlyn, in a single night. From captivity under the Whitecloaks and then the Seanchan to … something else. Freedom? Power? Or another captivity? Being a puppet for a different power. Well, she had begun and she had to go on with it. 

To see if al’Thor’s pledges of independence and support were as sincere as as he had appeared when he had fallen into her garden, what seemed so long ago now. He was a world different from the awkward and frightened boy Tallanvor had brought before her. The cold-eyed man who had taught male channelers to Travel, making possible her rescue from one of the most secure fortresses outside Tear or Tar Valon, had looked her in the eye and spoke as an equal. And she suspected that his treating her as an equal was more of a courtesy than an impertinence.

Dyelin continued, when Morgase did not respond to her remark. “If you have been alive all this time, why not come to me, to Luan or Arathelle? Why did you let Gaebril carry on until the Dragon Reborn killed him and took the city?” 

“I didn’t know how badly I might have set you against me,” Morgase replied, looking the other woman in the eye. “Al’Thor swears Gaebril was actually Rahvin, that the man fought him with the One Power when he took the city and set Trollocs and Myrdraal against his Aiel. He says Rahvin was controlling my will and forcing me to obey him. Whatever I did, I had no way to explain or redress, and without Gareth Bryne, I could offer no promise of success. So I left Andor altogether and ended up in … in a circumstance nearly as bad, until a pair of Asha’man found me and brought my people and me home.” Al’Thor had commended Norreck and Calwin and given them new orders, sending them south with messages for his armies preparing to take on Sammael. There would be no suborning them to her own cause, but Morgase was relieved not to have any male channelers in the Palace.

“He insisted he was having Elayne brought to be crowned,” Dyelin said. “It was a surprise to find you in the Throne Room with him instead.” 

Morgase decided to address the most important issue head on. “And you are wondering if he’s still going to be in the Throne Room when I reign.” Dyelin’s lips parted before tightening shut, and Morgase continued. “The Children of the Light and the Seanchan both sought to use me as a figurehead. I was on the verge of speaking the words of abdication in favor of Elayne to keep that from happening, when the Asha’man appeared in my quarters. I would not have come back unless I thought it was in Andor’s best interests. At least, if al’Thor intends to use me to rule Andor, the sooner I get my feet back under me here, the sooner I can resist. Better I be tainted with the stigma of being a puppet for a foreign conqueror than Elayne begin her reign that way. If necessary, I can cede the throne to her once I have done what I can to take Andor back from him.”

Dyelin let out a breath. “Then you have my support, my Queen. Taravin stands with Trakand.” She repeated the words by which she had affirmed her backing for Morgase’s claim during the Succession twenty-five years before. Morgase felt a tension release within her. She had been counting on Dyelin’s support, but she was afraid the other woman wouldn’t trust her, that she, or Rahvin, had torn too great a breach among the Houses to overcome.

But Dyelin had questions as well. “What does the Dragon Reborn want of you? When he held the Palace, he insisted he merely wanted Andor restored to its lawful ruler, and the help of the High Seats in accomplishing that much, but he did not hide his dealings with your … rivals either. I have Elenia Sarand and Naean Arawn secure in Aringill, and most of those who attended court under al’Thor and Gaebril,” she swallowed and licked her lips, “or Rahvin … have scattered. Karind, Lir, Jarid Sarand, others. Nassin is thick with Arymilla who has been making noise about her own claim for the Lion Throne.”

Morgase knew some of that, she had not been idle while waiting on Dyelin's return, and replies to the messengers she had sent to every High Seat of an important House. But not all was clear, and she valued Dyelin's view on matters. 

“They’ve been defying al’Thor? I didn’t get the impression he would have put up with so much openly.” Morgase frowned. “Or do you think he’s playing more than one side?”

Dyelin shook her head pensively. “I…I want to believe he was sincere. Remembering how he conducted our audiences, I rather think he’d have handled it more deftly, if he were deliberately setting the Houses against each other. As for the defiance, well, al’Thor disappeared from the Sun Palace in Cairhien for a month or so, and Elenia and Naean attempted to claim the crown, around the same time. Several of your allies assisted me in establishing a regency for Elayne and arresting them, but I don’t know how much further we can count on their support. They were trying to persuade me to take the crown, and some, Ellorien first among them, wants Trakand off the throne. As for al’Thor, there were rumors about his death or submission to the White Tower, but I’ve heard nothing to suggest he’s under the Aes Sedai’s direction since coming back. He’s been to Caemlyn before he brought you, from what Lord Bashere & the Aiel said, but he made no attempt to interfere with my authority.”

Morgase shook her head ruefully. “Those who support me, and him, will claim that proof his claims were sincere. Those opposed, will claim he did not care because he was preparing to install his figurehead queen. And there is little I can do for now to even separate us in the eyes of the nation. Al’Thor’s supporters will claim the same thing I do, that I am in control and ruling Andor in my own right, and to those not inclined to believe him, or me, it will sound like collusion.”

“At the very least, he has moved his Aielmen and borderlanders out of the city,” Dyelin said. “Collusion or not, it is an end no one concerned for Andor’s interests can dispute. It is what decided me to come to the Palace and see for myself the truth of the rumors. And with them no longer holding the Palace, others may come as well, no longer fearing to be captured by Dragonsworn. So long as matters stand thus, and keep moving in a direction of progress for Andor’s freedom, the accusations that you are in his grip will lose teeth.”

“My concern is that if al’Thor has another game in mind, he might have Elayne as a hostage. If he has publicly announced he was bringing her to Caemlyn, people will assume he has her in hand. It affects how the balance of power between us is perceived. Al’Thor does not have to lift a finger or say a word in Andor, and as long as Elayne is absent, and he is claiming he is bringing her home, it will be assumed he wields the power behind my reign.”

“What about the White Tower?” Dyelin asked. “Is it that simple for him to extricate her from her studies?” Morgase hesitated. That Elayne could channel, and strongly, had been a closely-kept secret in Andor. Her potential to be a full sister could be a complication, especially given how far in public favor the Tower and Aes Sedai had fallen since the incident with the Murandian border. She wondered what was happening there. Al’Thor seemed to take her return to Andor for granted, but even if he could pry her out of the Tower’s grip, it would seem to be the sort of thing he would have needed to handle personally. She doubted the Tower would hand Elayne over to an Asha’man, or even an Aiel chief or a lord like Davram Bashere or Dobraine Taborwin. But he also did not strike Morgase as the sort to boast of what he couldn’t deliver. 

“I think he is confident in his ability to handle the White Tower,” she replied. “With what I have seen of him so far, it would be dangerous to assume he cannot do what he says he will.” As she spoke of al’Thor’s capabilities, a darker thought occurred to her.

If al’Thor’s servants could pluck Morgase herself out of the Fortress of the Light and have her back in Caemlyn so easily, then he could have her daughter here as soon as he wished. And yet, he talked as if she was being brought by mundane means. Her own rescue had been unintended, by al’Thor, at least, and he had moved quickly to separate Morgase from those whose good will had brought it about. His claim of having Elayne being brought to Caemlyn was clearly a delaying tactic, intended to keep Morgase’s daughter in hand while maintaining a false face of good will, only exposed by the accident of Calwin’s patriotism. But now, he no longer had to play Elayne as a claimant for the throne, he had her mother in place, and Elayne as a hostage to her cooperation. And when she balked him, Morgase would face the stick to go along with the carrots he had offered so far.

Dyelin was no fool. She could see the implications as well as Morgase. “Then I fear we depend on him desiring the appearance of Andor’s independence as much as we do.” Morgase could give no reply beyond a nod. In some ways, she might be as trapped as she had been in Amador or when Rahvin held her. At least the nightmarish drought had finally ended two weeks before. 

"My Queen!" Reene Harfor, burst into the room, slightly out of breath. She appeared as composed as ever, but she had clearly run. Morgase's heart sped up. An attack? Had al'Thor returned? Was he retaking the Palace? "My Queen," Mistress Harfor repeated, there is a large party of women at the Palace gates. There are Aes Sedai with them, and the Daughter-heir! Lady Elayne has returned!"


	3. Union

Morgase schooled herself to serenity as she waited. Cool and composed, in a high-necked dress of gold and blue. She breathed deeply, calming her nerves, before catching herself in exasperation. _You are the Queen of Andor._ She was waiting for her daughter, a woman, really little more than a _girl,_ of a mere eighteen years. She had held the Lion Throne for years before Elayne was even conceived! _She_ was the one in control here. She had summoned her daughter for a talk, and it was Elayne who should be concerned. Elayne who was to receive a royal command and, if necessary, a lecture on her duty as Daughter-Heir. 

There was no reason for Morgase to be nervous. Perhaps she should have had Lini present. Their old nurse had always kept the girl in line, as well as she had Morgase herself. _She wasn’t Aes Sedai, then._ Morgase shook the thought from her head. Aes Sedai or not, Elayne would be Queen of Andor one day, and even a Queen who was Aes Sedai would have duties she could not avoid.

Sighing, Morgase leaned back in her chair. She was not _afraid_ of her own daughter. Not precisely. But Elayne was different these days. Changed, or perhaps …grown? Elayne had always had an impulsive streak, she’d been an active, restless child, sometimes even unruly, but she’d also been dutiful, with a good heart. She had done her best to learn what Morgase, her advisors and Elayne’s tutors had tried to teach and she’d been a sweet and kind child and young woman. The cause of Morgase’s nerves was how different seemed the woman who had come back to Caemlyn over a week ago. 

Oh, Elayne looked the same, she had wept in Morgase’s arms when they met in the palace courtyard, and had been the perfect loving daughter for all of a day. She had introduced several of her … eclectic... companions to her mother, she had embraced Lini as warmly as she had Morgase herself, had settled back into her old rooms without complaint, but the new Elayne had soon emerged from behind the façade. 

To Morgase’s astonishment, when Elayne spoke to Aes Sedai, the _other_ Aes Sedai, listened. The five eldest actually obeyed when she commanded. Only Nynaeve Sedai, the intense sister, nearly as young as Elayne, with a village woman’s manner of speech and a Two Rivers accent, appeared to hold any authority over her daughter, and she listened more closely to Elayne than to any of the sisters whose ageless faces looked the part. As near as she could understand, Elayne should not have been a full sister for years yet, could not have been tested and raised outside the White Tower. But women who were unmistakably Aes Sedai, at least one of whom she remembered from her own days studying in the White Tower, not only acknowledged her as one of them, but as one who stood above themselves!

And Elayne’s apparent authority carried over. She had informed Morgase, not requested permission, that she had turned over an estate of House Trakand near the city to the use of a large number of refugee women she had brought with her, and most of the sisters spent a good deal of time visiting the estate through those wondrous gateways. When she was not on Aes Sedai business, of which she told Morgase little of substance, she was visiting the camp into which al’Thor’s Aiel had withdrawn, or riding through the city, or prowling the Palace, questioning the servants and even the nobles who had started trickling in to court. Just three days gone, Reene Harfor had approached Morgase with evidence of spies in the Palace, and the detail that Elayne’s questions had set her on the track of finding them in the first place. Now, with Elayne’s unsolicited oversight, she was hunting spies planted by Rahvin’s toadies. And rather than tactfully rebuffing the Daughter-Heir’s intrusion into her business, as would have been her usual habit, the First Maid appeared to be giving her all the submissive deference due a full sister.

Worse yet, in the last few days, Elayne had begun questioning Morgase herself about al’Thor, his actions and the nature of the agreement she had entered into with the man. Though there had been no formal agreement, or even truly any negotiations. Morgase had simply asserted she would not be al’Thor’s puppet and he agreed to every condition she could think to name that might ensure her freedom from his strings. He had only insisted that she not side with his enemies and accept his leadership against the Shadow or the Seanchan. Elayne’s lips had tightened on hearing of that, as if she presumed to pass judgment on her own mother and Queen’s decisions! But she had wanted every detail of every moment Morgase had spent in the man’s company, from his appearance to his state of health, his emotions, his thoughts, anything she could pry out. And worse, instead of putting Elayne in her place, Morgase found herself answering, wracking her brains to try to tease out some hint as to what feelings or wishes might have lurked behind al’Thor’s hard, cold eyes and stone face. The girl who had spoken up for the boy who fell off the Palace wall, had been replaced by an Aes Sedai with the relentless intensity of a Whitecloak Questioner! Had she not known better, Morgase would have guessed Elayne had followed Elaida into the Red Ajah.

Beyond wanting the dirt behind al’Thor’s ears, Elayne had also queried her mother concerning affairs of state and had not been shy about offering her own thoughts, many of which were surprisingly - in light of Elayne’s attention span as a student - insightful and cogent. She didn’t try to take over and was not truly disrespectful, but it seemed that Elayne had found somewhere an enormous store of certainty. That was it. She was certain of her authority and certain of her right to knowledge and her right to be involved in setting Andor’s course. And Morgase was sure Elayne was equally certain of what role the Dragon Reborn should play in that course, and in general. And that was a danger, that she might act as Daughter-Heir, while thinking as an Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah, and Andor could find itself crushed between the Dragon Reborn and the White Tower. 

One thing that had become apparent to Morgase, she _needed_ al’Thor to hold onto Andor, at least for now. The other Houses were balking. Aside from Dyelin, all of the significant ladies and lords who had supported her claim to the throne during the Succession had backed away, if not outright turned against her. Jarid Sarand was agitating for his wife’s freedom, and appeared to be plotting with Arymilla and Nasin. That they had not gathered more of Rahvin’s courtiers to their cause seemed largely due to fear of al’Thor and his Aiel, his Saldaeans and the small army of Dragonsworn training under Davram Bashere. Not to mention the Black Tower. Al’Thor had asked, even politely, her permission for his male channelers to remain where they were, and she had acceded when he promised to ensure their behavior, which was all she felt she could demand from him, having requested his people leave the Palace and Caemlyn entirely. Elayne had definitely been displeased and had even demanded of the Asha’man to inspect the grounds of the enclave. She had come back in a pensive mood, and the men there had given her no trouble, but Morgase’s heart had been in her throat for the two hours between learning where her daughter had gone and her return. Elayne was still not happy about the Black Tower, but agreed there was nothing to be done, to Morgase’s relief.

Whether she would be happy or not about this day’s discussion would be another issue. And it would not simply be Elayne Morgase had to bend to her will. Most of Elayne’s companions did not cause Morgase any anxiety. The large collection of Sea Folk women who had come to Caemlyn with her had joined Zaida, the ambassador in the city, but Zaida was a capable woman and a shrewd negotiator and there had been no problems there, whatever the tensions between the Sea Folk and Aes Sedai, of which Elayne was clearly in the thick. Zaida had actually attempted to raise that issue with the Queen, seemingly thinking of Morgase as the head of Elayne’s clan, only to be rebuked by Elayne informing the ambassador with a cold courtesy suitable for wearing the Rose Crown herself, of the distinction between the Throne of Andor and the White Tower.

The other sisters were as close-mouthed but courteous as Morgase had become accustomed to expect in dealing with Aes Sedai, and Nynaeve, though brusque and often prickly, was actually somewhat warmer. Morgase suspected Nynaeve saw her as Elayne’s mother first, and a queen only incidentally, and further, was more impressed by the former status than the latter. Birgitte had been a shock, when Elayne introduced her as her warder, but the few words they had exchanged left Morgase sure the woman was no fool, and if she was halfway capable with a weapon, the thought of Elayne’s safety being in her hands was reassuring. 

In Morgase’s eyes, the true concern was Aviendha. A lovely and proud young woman, and an apprentice to the Aiel Wise Ones, she could channel and quite strongly it seemed. A few days after her arrival in the Palace with Elayne, they had gone through an Aiel ceremony, where the Wise Ones had requested Morgase present Elayne “for testing” before leaving the room. At the end of it, they came out arm in arm, having clearly been weeping, and insisting they were sisters. Aiel customs forbade their discussing what it entailed, but Elayne had told her that she and Aviendha were now linked in a way and the One Power had been involved. She had formally petitioned Morgase that Aviendha be adopted as a member of House Trakand and requested the transfer of some of her own estates to the Aiel woman’s name! According to Elayne, it was customary for Aiel who adopted one another to make pledges in each other’s holds and she wanted to extend that as far as Andoran customs would allow. Morgase was sure the estates were her own idea - Elayne was still the generous and open-hearted daughter she had raised - but it was a measure of her regard for Aviendha that she was clearly indifferent to any political dangers from so public a relationship. 

Though in truth, once Morgase would have assumed the political ramifications simply had not occurred to Elayne. The woman who had come back from the White Tower and her Aes Sedai adventures could not have missed them, so the only explanation was that Aviendha was more important to Elayne than any concern over others’ opinions. Morgase had rooms set aside for all her daughter’s friends, but Mistress Harfor had reported the Aiel girl slept in Elayne’s nearly every night. Though once or twice Elayne had shared Aviendha’s instead. To Morgase, the nature of their relationship was obvious. She did not even disapprove, exactly. She rather liked the young woman, and though it was hard to read an Aiel’s emotions, she clearly returned Elayne’s affection unreservedly. 

But for a queen, or the daughter of a queen, love could not be everything. Marriage was a duty and so was bearing children. Aviendha could not give her those, even if they seemed to have gone a good deal further to commit to one another than even a wedding ceremony. And so Morgase had summoned Elayne and her ‘sister’ for a conversation. Because it was clear to her what Andor and House Trakand needed, and the surest way to secure that need. And, Light help her, she planned to serve her only daughter up to do it.

Elayne and Aviendha entered together, laughing quietly, though there seemed to be an element of sadness to them as well, for some reason. Elayne was wearing a simple dress of silver-embroidered green silk, suitable for the daily affairs of a Daughter-Heir or an Aes Sedai and Aviendha, the customary garb of an Aiel woman. Elayne made a very slight curtsey, appropriate to an informal greeting between mother and daughter, and Aviendha gave a slight bow with one hand extended, in what Morgase had learned was an Aiel form. She gestured to a pair of chairs facing her own, and they sat down, Aviendha somewhat gingerly, and perching upright and awkwardly, while Elayne gave her ‘sister’ an encouraging smile. 

“Elayne,” Morgase began, “I want you to know, I am very proud of all you have accomplished, and to see how well you’ve learned and applied everything you have been taught.”

Her daughter’s eyes lit up and she blushed slightly, as she had at serious praise when a young girl, murmuring, “Thank you, Mother.” Morgase steeled herself. Elayne was not a little girl any longer. She was a woman, and she had to accept a woman’s duties.

“Do not think what I am about to tell you means I find any fault in your attention to your duties. But there are other obligations to your station beyond politics or governance, or the affairs of the White Tower.”

Elayne’s chin rose and she sat up straighter in the chair, an eyebrow cocked coolly. Not exactly defensively, Morgase felt, more that Elayne was inviting the opportunity to prove her dutiful qualities. Aviendha, on the other hand, had begun to frown, and glancing from her friend to the queen, the expression began to darken. Elayne must have read something in Morgase’s look, because she darted a glance to the woman at her side, then blurted suddenly, “No, Aviendha, Mother is not saying I have _toh_ to meet, she means something else.”

 _Toh_ meant obligation or duty in the Old Tongue, but clearly had a more serious meaning to the Aiel. “She is correct, Aviendha,” Morgase said. “Elayne has done nothing wrong. But she has duties still to carry out, which may affect your relationship.”

Now Elayne frowned. “Which duties, Mother?”

“Marriage,” Morgase replied bluntly, and both younger women jerked as if struck. _Poor girls,_ she thought. She did wish for Elayne’s happiness, but Andor came first.

“A queen has a duty to produce heirs, both to ensure her House’s succession and to provide stability for the realm. When I was a girl, I dreamed of falling in love with a handsome and kindly man. But when I took the throne, I was not so much older than you are now, and I wed your father for duty. We did not love one another when we wed, but you and your brother were more than worth the sacrifice of our happiness. I always hoped you would find love and be able to be with the one you loved, but these are dangerous times. Andor needs allies, and House Trakand’s hold on the throne is as weak as it has ever been since I was first crowned.”

Elayne’s face was white, but admirably composed, with a distant expression. Morgase was sure she was running through what she knew of the nobility of Andor and the families of potential allies abroad, trying to guess with whom her mother was matching her. Aviendha’s customarily impassive face showed a mild look of disappointment, that Morgase suspected was the mere tip of an appalled reaction. The Aiel woman was staring at Elayne and gripping her wrist with one hand. Suddenly, Elayne’s eyes widened. She _was_ clever.

“Mother,” she breathed, “you can’t possibly be suggesting…”

Morgase met her daughter’s eyes levelly. Duty was hard at times, and she prayed Elayne would never know firsthand how hard hers was now, to tell her only daughter - a _girl_ still in some ways, no matter how sure of herself, or sharp her mind - what she had to sacrifice for Andor, for her House and her duty.

Rather than let Elayne finish her protest, she announced, “I am saying, I intend to offer the Dragon Reborn a marriage alliance. I have some hope it will bind him more closely to Andor and commit his support to the rule of House Trakand. He seems to have no care for Andor since he brought me back, but everything could fall into disaster still. If the other Houses depose me, he might be content to work with whomever takes the throne, or worse, decide to conquer Andor outright. But with a marriage alliance, we have more flexibility in the eyes of Andor to accept his support.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I understand if you don’t wish to marry a man who can channel, but it might be possible to mitigate the arrangement. And…between that and Tarmon Gaidon, your marriage need not last forever.” 

Aviendha’s mouth had dropped open, and she stared between mother and daughter in clear shock, while Elayne’s lips had compressed to a thin line, her jaw clenched as she struggled to contain her own reaction. Finally, she spoke in a tight voice, holding her feelings to herself. “I understand your reasons, Mother.” A deep breath. “I cannot even say I disagree.” More thoughtfully, “I am not opposed to the match in principle, but there is much I must consider. There are other factors too, that might make such an arrangement awkward.”

“Such as Aviendha?” Morgase inquired gently. Now they both stared at her in shock.

“You…how…?” Elayne gasped. 

Morgase allowed herself a small smile. “Oh Elayne, it’s plain as day how much you care about one another. Aviendha, I truly don’t wish to hurt you or cut you out of Elayne’s life. It may even be possible for you to continue to be together if the marriage comes to pass. Such things are not unheard of.” Now Elayne flushed practically crimson, and though Aviendha's own eyes were wide with astonishment, she seemed more amused than anything else, as they exchanged glances.

Clearing her throat, Elayne offered a new point. “What about Master al’Thor?” she asked, as if by giving him a commoner’s style she could render her prospective groom less daunting. “Have you approached him with this alliance? Perhaps his own interest lies elsewhere?” Aviendha eyed her narrowly for some reason.

“In fact, I fear he does,” Morgase replied. That got a startled look from both younger women as well. Clearly neither had ever considered the Dragon Reborn as a man. “After I returned to the Palace, he came twice to discuss matters between us, and he was accompanied the last time by a young woman, who is clearly…attached… to him, as I think he is to her.”

“Was her name Min Farshaw? Pretty, dark hair, a little older than we, wearing breaches instead of skirts?” Elayne asked, with a slight degree of tension.

“Yes, that was her name, and the description fits.” Strangely Elayne seemed to relax at her words. Morgase wondered what the relationship between al’Thor and Min was, remembering a few peculiar looks the young woman had given her. Al’Thor had noticed too but Min had shaken her head at his questioning glance… The only thing that fit, beyond their romantic attachment, would be some sort of channeler, but Morgase was certain the young woman was not.

“I first met her when she was…studying in the Tower when I was a novice,” Elayne absently answered Morgase’s unspoken question. “We became quite good friends. I think she’s the first true friend I ever made.” That seemed directly almost as much at Aviendha as Morgase. The Aiel woman’s reaction had been hard to make out, but jealousy might have fit. “When last I saw her, she spoke of her interest in him, but I haven’t heard of them being together.”

“Do you know how al’Thor feels about her?” Morgase asked. It would be hard enough for Elayne to take a husband when she loved another, to ask her to marry a man her friend loved on top of it….

“I certainly hope he loves her,” Elayne retorted, then appeared surprised at her own reaction. Aviendha patted her on the knee, affectionately and murmured something about jealousy and honor. After a moment, Elayne seemed to realize her answer could be taken as hoping for a way out for herself. “I don’t think her feelings would necessarily interfere with your hopes for an alliance. Min had an idea that the relationship she hoped for might be compromised. She has certain insights… But it’s not my place to discuss her.”

Her expression firmed and she met Morgase’s eyes. “Aviendha and I need to talk about what this means for us, and decide how to approach the matter. I do agree that a marriage between myself and Rand al’Thor could be very desirable, but the relationships must be handled delicately, and his own likely reactions to any proposal, especially in light of Aviendha and Min, must be considered.” She rose gracefully to her feet and extended a hand for Aviendha, who took it and stood, before folding Elayne’s arm around hers.

“I am not offended by what you suggest for Elayne,” the Aiel woman told Morgase. “But you should know the Wise Ones also have intentions regarding the _Car’a’carn_. I do not know exactly how Min Farshaw figures into their plans, but they seem to regard her highly.” Another smile for Elayne. “But they think well of Elayne, too. It may be there is a way to satisfy your wishes and theirs.” She smiled at Morgase as they turned to leave.

Sitting back, Morgase let out a deep breath. That had gone better than she had feared, but there was still much work to be done to secure the alliance. If Elayne was truly willing to go forward with it… she had never been more proud of her daughter, but she couldn’t help worry that the other relationships, the other plans she and Aviendha had alluded to might bring it all crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I wrote this with the intention that Elayne & Aviendha's relationship is strictly sororal as in canon, but you can read their reactions to Morgase's assumption however you want if you 'ship it. I figure the story works either way, whether she is right or wrong about it.


End file.
